


I'll take it as a sign

by deanwinchesterissaved



Series: Drabble boys [6]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: A little bit of angst, First Kiss, I also know nothing about dancing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Dancing, because my brain cannot just write fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22889281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwinchesterissaved/pseuds/deanwinchesterissaved
Summary: "What're you doing?""I'm dancin'," Shane sidesteps and goes for a spin, the long coat he'd chosen to wear flapping out in a graceful arc.It's truly impressive, Ryan thinks, as Shane catches himself with the tip of a boot. This is a new side of Shane he's seeing, the smooth movements and deft twists in the half-light.Ryan's not sure if he's allowed to like it.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: Drabble boys [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613827
Comments: 6
Kudos: 180





	I'll take it as a sign

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Belle for the prompt "slow dancing with shyan, pretty please?"
> 
> Hey look I'm writing some fluff after all that angst :)
> 
> I listened to Billie Eilish's No Time to Die while writing this, so it made me feel a kind of way.

Ryan hates to admit it, but the room does look beautiful in the dark. Even with the half dozen mirrors lining the walls, each movement they make reflected back at the corners of his eyes like shadows. 

"This is, quite a room." Shane's craning his neck back to peer at the intricate oil paintings nestled high into the gloom of the arched ceiling, the pale moonlight through the windows tracing across the lines of his face. 

It's still a surprise that they were allowed to wander through such a luxuriously decorated place alone, Ryan thinks, a smile tugging at his mouth at the scene. They must have done something right with the show. 

He fiddles with his phone and starts the nice little waltz he had picked out, the rhythmic melody flowing out from the speaker on the floor. 

Shane glances back and hums, "That's some nice normal music for a change."

"Oh we're still using this big guy, there's no getting out of it." Ryan wiggles the spirit box in his hand and Shane groans, "Come on man, it's not that bad." 

"Objection your honor, it absolutely fucking is." Shane's voice drops low, and Ryan is hit by a sudden and deep concern for his vocal cords. It really can't be good for them to shift like this, especially when they already have to accommodate the twenty or so characters Shane's made for his little weekly skit. 

"The jury agrees? It is decided!" Shane announces, thumping his flashlight on his hand twice, "See Ryan, the hammer thing has been struck, and you can't argue with the hammer." 

Ryan huffs a laugh, "You'd be a god-awful judge." 

"Excuse you, I'd rock those old European wigs. I'm halfway there already with the Shane Madej all-natural locks baby." Shane drags out the last syllable, flicking off his bandana and makes a show of shaking out his hair, peeking at Ryan through the soft tangled mass. 

And it takes mountains, fucking grand-canyons of self-control for Ryan to stop himself from surging forward, to touch. But he manages, because that's not really a socially acceptable thing to do to your best friend.

The waltz builds, the soft waves of it rippling against the walls and pooling at Ryan's feet. And he can only watch as Shane starts swaying with it, flashlight in hand, his dark silhouette twirling about with his arms circling on moon-lit air. 

"What're you doing?" 

"I'm dancin'," Shane sidesteps and goes for a spin, the long coat he'd chosen to wear flapping out in a graceful arc. It's truly impressive, Ryan thinks, as Shane catches himself with the tip of a boot. This is a new side of Shane he's seeing, the smooth movements and deft twists in the half-light.

Ryan's not sure if he's allowed to like it. 

"You're the one that started playing music in a ballroom."

"That's--I thought it would make the spirits more comfortable." 

"Are there ghosts dancing around us right now?" 

"Maybe," Ryan's fingertip catches on the spirit box switch, but he can't quite bring himself to flip it, there's something heavy in the room that he doesn't want to disturb. His voice comes strained, "But that doesn't mean you have to."

"We don't  _ have _ to do anything," Shane steps in, voice soft and a careful tilt to his mouth. Then he's extending a hand out to Ryan with a flourish, a gentle intensity in his gaze, "Care to dance?"

"Oh." 

Shane's glasses are slightly crooked, the clear frames capturing the stray moonlight around his eyes, his shoulders tight with a tension that wasn't there before. And Ryan wants to brush it off, to laugh, to toss out some of the 'no-homo' bullshit he's been indoctrinated into using like armor. But he can't, he won't, not with Shane looking at him like that, like this is supposed to mean something. 

"Ghoo-ounnn." the still-not-turned-on spirit box chokes out, Ryan feels the sound vibrate through his hand, and isn't now the very worst time for ghosts figure out how to bypass physics. 

Yet all of the fear that leaps into Ryan's throat isn't enough for him to look away from Shane. 

"That sounded like 'go on' to me Ryan," Shane's smirking, "looks like the spirits want a show, you gonna help me give it to them?" 

Then Shane is tipping back his head, crooking his fingers at Ryan,  _ come on _ , and oh that's _ it _ . To hell with it. Ryan grabs at them. 

"Don't you dare step on my shoes." 

"Oh that won't be a problem." The self-satisfied idiot, Shane chuckles when Ryan slips a hand to rest at the small of his back. "You ready? Don't want to keep the ghosties waiting." 

"You bet I am." 

And away they go. 

It isn't perfect, the height difference throws Ryan's brain off-kilter, and it takes a few turns to get the rhythm right. But Shane follows his lead, his hand a warm weight on Ryan's shoulder.

And yes, maybe dancing also gets him away from the magically functioning ghost radio, but Ryan will take what he can get in this life. It's how he got here, dancing with the most amazingly important person he knows. 

Their feet are silent against the carpet, the rich crimson darker in the night, silhouettes flit across the mirrors in a soft flurry of motion.

"Smooth moves Bergara, didn't think you had it in you."

"Please, this is only entry-level," Something flutters in his chest when Shane's eyes light up at the words. 

"Oh really?" 

"You don't even know," Ryan muses, and he allows his gaze to linger on Shane's lips, because he can. 

The music wallows, squanders, ascends, the soft tones loud in his ears. 

"Show me then." 

Ryan knows this waltz, he had chosen it to grant himself a slice of familiarity in this old new place halfway across the world. Ryan knows the lifts and drops, the twists and the crescendos. 

He knows how it ends. 

"Ready?" He asks when the time is near, body thrumming and breaths quick in his throat. The moonlight shines in at them side by side, the expanse of the garden stretching on through the floor-length windows. Shane tips his head, and that is all he needs.

Ryan tugs and Shane follows, and Ryan lets himself go to the play of shadows on the light. 

It's the swirl of coat edges skimming Ryan's side, Shane's hand in his own pulled close. It's Shane leaning back and Ryan's hands circling around his waist catching, supporting. It's Shane's huff of breath and the gentle press of Shane's forehead against his as the music drops out, their bodies still and tense across inches of space, the silence cutting them off from the rest of the world until its just them in the half-dim ballroom. 

And it's easy, so easy to close that distance.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chat and poke around my [ Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deathfrisbeeinthetardis) if you're so inclined :D


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